


Something New to Grow

by Pengibee



Series: Something New to Grow [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety, Apologies, Awkward Conversations, Catra (She-Ra) Swears, Catra Goes to Therapy (She-Ra), Catra is LOVED, Crying, Emotions, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scorpia (She-Ra) is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25373455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pengibee/pseuds/Pengibee
Summary: A week after returning to Bright Moon after defeating Horde Prime (and after a few sessions with Perfuma), Catra decides to start having the difficult conversations she needs to with the people she's hurt. Scorpia gets to be first.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Series: Something New to Grow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837462
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Something New to Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series I'll be posting semi-regularly about Catra learning to communicate, ask for, and receive forgiveness (or lack thereof). There will be lots of catradora fluff, tears, and difficult emotions to process for Catra and her (hopeful) friends. Not for Scorpia, though :) Be warned I will be projecting my own learned lessons from therapy *hard* and future entries will get longer and more emotionally thorny.

“So, today’s the day you—and I quote—‘guess you’ll try talking to Scorpia about stuff, or whatever.’ How’re you feeling about it, kitten?”

Adora smirked as Catra tried her best to pretend—unconvincingly—that the new pet name she had settled on didn’t make a warmth rise in the magicat’s chest every time she heard it coming off her partner’s lips. Catra managed a reluctant sigh in response, suppressing a purr.

“I guess so. I told you and Perfuma I would, right? Guess I have to make good on that promise.”

“You’ve always made good on your promises… _kitten_.”

“If you ever call me that in front of your friends, I _promise_ you’re going to have the worst day imaginable. Sparkles too.” Catra’s jab was couched in a playful smile. She couldn’t get enough of getting to lovingly trade barbs with her best-friend-turned-princess girlfriend again.

Adora winked. “I love you too! Now go, before I _make_ She-Ra push you out of here herself.”

“You know, that wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing, princess.”

“If you’re trying to get some of those rippling muscles to yourself, come see me _after_ you’ve had the difficult conversation you’re desperately trying to run away from.”

Catra stuck her tongue out in defiance as she trotted out the door.

* * *

She _had_ promised herself, and the others, that she would start working on making amends with the people she had hurt. Perfuma had said that there were months of work ahead, to be done both on her own “emotional space” and on “rebuilding a healthy connection between you and your social environment.” It sounded like the most uncomfortable thing she could manage to think of doing right now, but she had agreed to do it. For Adora’s sake, insofar as she couldn’t conceive of doing it for herself yet. She had to admit… she hadn’t been happy in a _long_ time. The notion that some people might choose to let bridges be mended, to accept apologies expressed in genuine vulnerability backed up by… _”doing her best to learn to be a good friend to yourself, and the people around you…”_ hadn’t quite sunk in yet. It had worked between her and Adora, but… they were _in love_. The rules were different. Of _course_ Adora was going to forgive her. No one else had ever understood her quite the same. She figured Bow and Glimmer trusted Adora too much not to follow her lead on that front. Those three were the _easy_ ones to deal with after all that she had done.

She sighed, plodding towards the courtyard, lost in thought. Scorpia was probably the best person to start her “journey towards fulfilling, mutual social relationships” with. She had started forgiving Catra as soon as she had first seen her again. They had seldom spoken in the week since, though, and what words they had exchanged had been mostly uncomfortable thanks to Catra’s impulse to run away and ignore the tension she felt. Since running away “doesn’t respect other people’s right to decide for themselves how they feel towards you,” though, that impulse had to be bypassed for the time being. With only a few months to go before going back to space, waiting any longer would most likely make things even more difficult.

Scorpia wasn’t hard to find. She loved the outdoors—back in the Fright Zone (Catra couldn’t help but shudder a bit as guilty memories flooded her brain), she had always been itching for the next mission that would take her somewhere with open skies. Sure enough, Catra spotted her as soon as she stepped into the sunlit courtyard, hauling boxes filled with dying plants out of the gazebo.

Catra took a deep breath, stepping forward and half-expecting her former friend to immediately start verbally tearing her apart.

Instead, Scorpia flashed a soft smile as she made eye contact, putting down the planters and waving. Catra jogged up the path to meet her, pushing through an urge to reverse course and go running straight back to Adora.

“H…hey Scorpia, how’s it going? Are you… taking care of the plants here?”

Scorpia showed no signs of being uncomfortable, beaming at the opportunity to talk about what she was working on.

“Oh, yeah… I’ve been getting into gardening! It’s a great use of these strong babies!” She gave a quick clack of her pincers, flashing a guileless smile. A blush followed as she turned her eyes down to the ground. “Um, I also think Perfuma might be just a _bit_ impressed if I get good at it. Don’t tell her anything, okay?”

A hint of slyness poked through Catra’s grin. “My lips are sealed.” Catra gazed down towards her feet in turn, hoping the cobblestones held some kind of useful advice for how to steer the conversation towards the rehearsed apology the mirror in Adora’s room ( _our room,_ she reminded herself _)_ most likely knew by heart at this point. Unsurprisingly, none came. No guidance from Scorpia, either, seeing as she seemed somehow even _more_ nervous.

Catra broke the silence as safely as she could. “You and Perfuma are lucky to have each other… she—I’m happy I get to talk to both of you.”

“Ah, shucks. She’s _way_ better at all the ‘talking’ stuff than I am. Always going on about ‘positive connections’ and ‘keeping your heart open’… she’s the sweetest—wait, don’t tell her I said that either.”

The magicat nearly let out an exasperated sigh, catching it just in time. Those two were probably the only ones in the entire castle who _hadn’t_ yet accepted that they were perfect for each other. When it came down to it, though, it had taken her and Adora the better part of two decades to do the same. Someone else ( _less utterly broken_ , she told herself) might have the right to be annoyed, but… not her.

“She told me about keeping my heart open, once. While you were… _(be sensitive, Catra, for once in your life)_ separated from us. I don’t _usually_ agree with Princesses _(that’s better)_ , but she was right about it. If I hadn’t tried, Adora and I wouldn’t have….” She trailed off. Acknowledging that she and Adora loved each other outside the private confines of their relationship still didn’t come easily. It still felt so raw, so vulnerable—and part of her still expected everything to go dreadfully wrong by her hand.

The scorpion princess didn’t seem to take notice of Catra’s discomfort. If she had, she had most likely assumed that it was her fault for not having more to say, as she desperately searched for a way to stoke the conversation.

“Yeah! Um, anyway… I really like tulips, they’re so bright and colourful and when Shadow Weaver was tending the garden everything was so _drab_ and _dark_ and somehow it _relaxed_ her even though nothing about it adhered to basic colour theory—”

Catra had stopped listening upon hearing the words _Shadow Weaver_ and _garden_ together.

Even though she had been staying at Brightmoon for a week by now, Catra had avoided thinking about what Shadow Weaver did here. She hadn’t… thought about her at all, actually. She had put off dealing with _those_ feelings until later, preferring to focus on Adora and the new beginning that relationship represented.

Truthfully, though, she had repressed the tangled mess of emotions she had about her… _abuser_ (Perfuma had taught her that term) mostly out of fear. Nothing good came out of spending too long thinking about it, as she had concluded after a sleepless night filled with anger, sadness, and tears that she was still ashamed Adora had to witness.

There was no way around having to contemplate Shadow Weaver's legacy this time, though. Scorpia had just told her that _Shadow Weaver tended to the garden while she was in Brightmoon._ Peacefully content, strolling across the grounds tending to some flower or other while wars were being waged—one between the Horde and everyone else, and another being waged in secret inside Catra’s mind between Shadow Weaver’s abuse and her desire for Adora.

The image was infuriating, burning hot, searing in Catra’s brain. _Shadow Weaver had a garden while she was in Brightmoon._

_Shadow Weaver was happy in Brightmoon. She had a GARDEN—_

“ _SHADOW WEAVER HAD A GARDEN?!!"_

Scorpia’s nervous rambling was stopped dead in its tracks by a burst of verbal rage she had decidedly _not_ been expecting—not until she realized that she had hit a sore spot that, in retrospect, most people probably knew about already.

It took a few seconds for either of them to speak again. Scorpia led.

“Yeah, um… I guess there’s no way you could have known that. That’s kind of awkward—sorry, do you wanna just start over?”

Catra pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing as she agonizingly reminded herself that getting angry was something she should be working on.

“No, no, Scorpia, it’s okay. Please, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… angry. Angry at her getting to stroll through a fucking _garden_ of all things while I was still—while we were out there suffering. While we were stuck trying to make the most of the shitty situation she left us in, that she left Adora in, that she left _you_ in and that _I just kept making worse and worse_ because I couldn’t have the _decency_ to at least TRY to be nice to you because of all the fucked up shit—”

Tears welling, voice rising, the magicat found her verbal frenzy suddenly cut off by a set of claws clumsily wrapping themselves around her shoulders and squeezing the wind out of her lungs.

“Catra, _shhh_. I know I’m not the best at the whole ‘helping people solve complex emotional problems’ thing, but I promise it’s going to be okay. Believe me?”

Catra didn’t believe it. She didn’t _want_ to believe things could just “be okay”—not after everything she had done. It wasn’t only Shadow Weaver she was angry at; no, there was a healthy dose of not being able to stand _herself_ mixed in with the rest of the murky, turbulent mess of emotions she was treading, trying desperately to keep her head above.

At that thought, she found her anger being washed away by a wave of hot, painful tears. Tears that roared out from behind the dam that had started cracking the moment that the Horde, Prime, and her resentment of Adora had stopped existing, leaving in their wake a disturbing kind of emptiness that only those who only those who had been hurt and had only known how to hurt back could possibly hope to understand. An emptiness that meant that she had no choice but to accept the pain, trauma, sadness, guilt… the sheer emotional _horror_ of the past three years, themselves a cruel climax to a broken life defined up till only mere weeks ago by abuse and bare survival (which had never been a certainty in the first place).

How she had even made it this far, she couldn’t quite grasp. Why Scorpia— _Scorpia,_ of all people—would be willing to even speak to her, let alone _wrap her arms around her and reassure her_ after having borne witness to every single little disgusting thing she had been responsible for, she couldn’t bring herself to even attempt to understand.

Not that it mattered right now, since she wasn’t showing any signs of letting go.

“I’m so sorry, Catra. I saw how Shadow Weaver treated you. Adora told me stories. I’m never going to let anything like that happen to _my friend_ ever again. And, well… I guess what you said to me wasn’t very nice, but…look, it all worked out! Didn’t it? We get to be friends now! Maybe you’ll try my tea this time?”

Through tears, Catra managed a weak chuckle.

“I…I’ll drink every cup of tea you make me.”

Somehow, that only made more tears rise to the top and spill over.

Scorpia kept her friend wrapped tightly against her chest for a while.

* * *

Hours later, Adora emerged into the courtyard from yet another administrative meeting, desperate for fresh air. She had narrowly avoided passing out from hours cramped in the stuffy former war room, accosted by countless representatives from equally countless villages, cities and all sorts of groups demanding information (and guidance) from She-Ra in the wake of magic transforming their way of life.

She found Scorpia and Catra sitting in the grass by the gazebo, their clothes covered in dirt and laughing at something that sounded… not very important at all. Just what Adora needed to hear about after discussing Thaymor’s rebuilding plans in excruciating detail. By the looks of it, their conversation had gone off without a hitch.

“Hey… what have you two been up to?”

Catra’s ears perked as she noticed her girlfriend walk up to the pair and sit down facing them.

“Hey, Adora. How did work go?”

“I’m exhausted and hungry. I’m ready to steal a cake from the kitchen and eat it all by myself while taking a bubble bath.”

Scorpia piped up. “Oooh, sounds like a great idea. Need any partners in crime? Catra? You in?”

“I don’t think princesses helping themselves from the _Royal Brightmoon Kitchen_ is a crime, but I’m sure I can find something nefarious to do while no one’s looking.”

Adora chuckled. It wouldn’t be Catra without some mischief following her around.

“Okay, then, let’s go before I die of starvation and have to get Catra to kiss me so I can transform into She-Ra to live again.”

“That was ONE TIME, idiot. ONE TIME.”

“And, oh, a wonderful time it was—hey, what’s that in your hair?”

Catra blushed. “Oh, it’s um… a tulip. Scorpia and I have been tearing up Shadow Weaver’s old garden. We figured planting some tulips might get… something new to grow on top of the mess she made.”

Scorpia beamed. “Yeah! And, tulips are so pretty! Just look at her! Doesn’t the red just go _so_ well with her eyes? I should get one of these for Perfuma, I’m sure she would _love_ a nice bouquet.”

Adora couldn’t believe it. Catra, planting flowers. If this was any sign of the months to come, they were both going to be in for a fair amount of surprises. _More good ones,_ Adora hoped. She smiled lovingly at Catra for a moment, before flashing a sly grin. Time to get back to the usual business of poking fun at her girlfriend.

“Aw, you’re getting so soft. I love you, _kitten_.”

For once, Catra didn’t jab back. She had no toughness left in her after today.

“Love you too, princess. Now can we _please_ go get some food? I can’t kiss you back to life if I’m starving too.”


End file.
